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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

NED

Ned groaned when the alarm on his phone screeched that it was 7am and thus time to get up, and responsively he jabbed the snooze offering with a paw and pressed his head further into the pillow. His head ached fuzzily. Damn booze. Also, strangely, his rear ached too.

It was at that moment he became aware that another muzzle was just an inch from his.

Memories appeared in his head as swiftly as shoppers at a Black Friday sale. Discovering that Garrett was associated with the Chinese mafia. Leaving Garrett after telling him they were through. Going to Sacramento with Diego. Drinking, dancing, and eventually, kissing Diego at the Islander club. Kissing him again at the hotel. That first 69, licking under the wolfdog's raised tail. Thrusting under that same tail sometime later. Groaning when Diego bred him in turn. Taking turns - Ned didn't really remember the details, who had fucked who first or even how many times they'd done it, but it had to have lasted most of the night.

Oh, fuck. He felt like he hadn't slept at all; his body ached both from the hangover and from a night of passionate sex; and moreover, it had all been with Diego, not Garrett. Briefly he considered this thought. I miss Garrett, he thought. He missed the way he felt around the coyote, and he missed how good making Garrett happy felt for him, too. Maybe they needed to have a longer talk. Not that he would take Garrett back - what was he thinking, dating a criminal? But they needed to talk. At least that much.

Especially now that Ned had cheated on him. He studied Diego's blissful form, the naked wolfdog who smelled strongly of a night of sex. Had he really cheated? If he and Garrett had truly broken up, then technically he hadn't cheated.

But it didn't feel that way.

His phone screamed again, and that time he sat up, turned off the alarm, and began scanning the room for his clothes, still laying wherever they'd been discarded the night before. Diego sat up, blinking. The guy did look rather adorable, tongue hanging from muzzle, one big ear folded back over itself. He smiled contentedly. "Either I'm dreaming or last night was the finest night I've had in....a long time."

"Last night was a mistake" Ned muttered, finding his boxers kicked partway under the bed. They still smelled, but he did not have any spare clothing. In fact, since he would probably be going straight to work, it would be best to get a shower before dressing. "You got me drunk, and..."

"And it was fucking hot" the wolfdog grinned, pulling back some of the covers to display the two or three inches of shaft already jutting from his sheath. "I'm ready for round two if you are."

Ned finished collecting his clothes and turned to head for the bathroom. "There won't be a round two. I have a boyfriend, and I will not cheat on him again." He paused. "Plus we have a case to solve. Or am I now the responsible detective and you the clueless rookie?"

Diego sobered, glancing at his groin as if torn between work and pleasure. "Ah, shit" he muttered, sliding out of bed. "I'm sorry, I...."

"Nevermind" Ned said. "I'm getting a shower. And no, you may not join me." He shut the bathroom door without waiting for a reply from the wolfdog, letting the warm water wash away all signs of his infidelity, if not the emotional knowledge that he had...cheated. Would Garrett be hurt? And again, why be so concerned if he was....he didn't want to take Garrett back, assasian and all, did he?

He asked himself that again once they were back in Diego's Mercedes, driving south. He had his phone in his paw, a paw-pad hovering over Garrett's number. To call or not to call...he glanced at Diego. The wolfdog had sobered up, and although he too must have been hung-over, he did not complain.

Finally, he pressed the number, but after ringing three times, it was only the recording of "This is Garrett; leave a message" that answered him.

"Do we need to talk?" Diego asked suddenly, taking his eyes off the wheel for a moment. "You know, just in case-"

"I see no reason for the stereotypical 'About last night' conversation" Ned said firmly. "What happened, happened, and there is no further need to talk about it."

Diego was silent for a moment. "I guess that's fair. I-" he hesitated. "I don't mean to split you and Garrett up. Last night was...well, you know what being drunk is like."

"Yes," Ned agreed, "I do."

And that was all they said about it. Sometimes difficult conversations can be avoided if each party mutually agrees that since no harm has been done, nothing will be accomplished by debating over the matter further.

Back in San Fernando, it was insanity.

"Senator Johnson is here" Arkady told Ned and Diego after the pair had returned to SF Metro. "Giving a speech down at Union Square, same agenda as his other speeches."

They followed the fox back through the main office. "What did we find out about his whereabouts on the night of the Harding murders?" Diego asked.

"No alibi" Arkady growled grimly. "Left his wife and kids at the hotel and drove, he says, out to the edge of the city to 'pray under the sky,' or something like that. Apparently something he does regularly."

"That still sounds suspicious" Ned remarked. In front of them, he noticed that Arkady had added a photo of Adam Johnson to the other photos and links of evidence on the board. So the bigoted senator was a suspect. The evidence seemed to be pointing that way, anyway, with quotes of his linked to two different deaths. Then again, he had not been in San Fernando, so he could not be responsible for the first five deaths.

Unless "the Prophet" was more than one person.

Arkady made a wry face. "It does, but it's merely presumption. We have no concrete links between him and a death....yet." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, the Chief sent some guys down to keep the peace at the rally - the pro-Amendment 28 folks are doing a counter protest and, well, he and Lennox thought there might be some potential for violence."

"What was the item Mrs Wittmore found?" Diego wanted to know.

The fox brightened. "Oh! That's our one lucky break, or it could be." He tapped a photo on the board, of a silver ring with a turquoise in it. "Mrs Wittmore found her two little kids fighting over this after we'd left. Apparently the hyena found it lying near the mailbox when he went out to get the mail, but did not show it to his mother."

Ned peered closer. "Is that an engraving?"

"Yep, it is. 'WR,' almost certainly initials."

Diego nodded thoughtfully. "So our killer's initials are 'WR?' Either that or he's connected to someone who is."

"That's what I figured" the fox said. "The manufacturer's name was on there too, although it took a magnifying glass to find it. Some private jewellery corporation in St Louis. They said they couldn't determine who they'd made the ring for without seeing it, so I sent it to them on speed-mail. We should know back in a day or two."

The ring did not seem like the sort of thing a religious extremist like Senator Johnson would wear, Ned thought. That might indicate a different direction for the case, but he wasn't going to argue with the evidence. It was a great find, finally a piece of evidence, a clue, but one that the Prophet had presumably not intended to leave.

"Hey, Ned, you're back!"

Scarlett was already halfway across the station, smiling. "I was a little worried about you" she whispered, joining him at the evidence board.

"I'm fine" he said, smiling to reassure her. "Where have you been?"

"With me" Nolan answered softly, walking up behind Scarlett.

Arkady's ears perked. "What did you find?"

"Like the initial report said" the other wolf began. "Scott Bergman, 57, and Louis Moyle, 21. Both dead from gunshots outside the Leopard's Lair Nightclub."

"No sign of religious imagery or paperwork?"

"None."

"And that is a club which caters primarily to LGBT, correct?" Arkady clarified.

Ned followed all of this as best he could, uncertain what they were discussing. It was hard not to notice Scarlett's questioning looks, probably wanting to know what had transpired between he and Garrett the day before. She'd have to wait though, work first.

"It is" Nolan said.

"So another copy-cat" the fox groaned. "I was afraid of that."

Enough time being in the dark. "What exactly are you discussing?" Ned avoided Scarlett's questioning gaze.

"I was about to ask the same thing" Diego said.

"Couple of guys got shot outside a nightclub down the in the gay district" Arkady pointed to where Nolan was taping two photos onto the board. "A copycat killer, probably, inspired by the Prophet to kill more gay folks. We had a call yesterday about a death in Oklahoma which may also be the work of a copycat."

"Shit" Diego swore. "This is getting serious."

Arkady nodded. "Yes. Which is why...you don't need to go down there yourself, but I want someone watching Johnson's speech on the news. The TV is having issues though so you'd better run down to Sebastian's."

"That's me, right?"

"Yes," Arkady confirmed the wolfdog's question, "and take them with you" he gestured at Ned and Scarlett. "I want multiple pairs of eyes on the man. Look for similarities to the word choice and rhetoric he uses to today to that in the dialogue of the DVD recording. Or for similarities in the way he talks. The man's connected somehow. You just need to crack the code."

Ned answered Scarlett's questions as best he could en route to the bar. "Garrett works for Olympia" he admitted. "Her right-hand man, he said." Somehow he felt guilty telling her that, like he didn't want the coyote thinking badly of his boyfriend.

Scarlett must have been expecting an answer similar to that, because she did not look overly surprised. "What did you do?"

"I told him we were breaking it off....but I think I want to meet up with him again and have a talk when I'm not furious with emotion."

She considered that. "Fair enough. Just...don't do anything dumb, alright?" Her ears drooped. "I liked Garrett, but how could you ever trust someone like that?"

Ned had wondered the same thing, but he did not tell her that. Nor did he tell her about the encounter, if that was the word, with Diego. Instead they merely discussed how he should best go about broaching the subject with Garrett. Honestly he didn't know what he expected or wanted the coyote to say, but somehow...if he could just talk to Garrett, ask him, why?

The bar was somewhat more crowded than usual, but Sebastian grinned widely when he saw the three cops enter. "It's my favourite members of Fernando's best!" he laughed. "Coming down to watch the" he nodded at the television.

"You have that stupid senator's gig up yet?" Diego inquired, reaching for the shot Sebastian had already poured for him.

The rat wiped a paw on his flannel shirt. "Sure. You boys - and miss" he nodded to Scarlett - "got here just in time. The feller's just settin' up camp like he always does."

On the television, the camera was panning over a crowd similar to that at Houston, except for that here, the group of Anti-Amendment 28 protesters was definitely in the minority, and that of the opposition was significantly larger, and more animated. Rainbow flags and posters calling for the downfall of Senator Johnson and the TMF were everywhere, while some protesters chanted for Johnson's resignation. And, yes, here and there Ned could see signs equalling Johnson with the Prophet and his victims, calling for his arrest or punishment. Whether these links were meant in figurative terms or literally, he wasn't sure, but it was obvious that the public was not above linking the two. That should not have been surprising either, but it reminded him of what had been said before; the badger was a fool to think he would find many friendly faces in a city as open-minded as San Fernando.

Sebastian was polishing glasses, and he leaned across the bar to where the three cops sat. "Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I roped an ostrich? Threw the lariat right over his neck."

Ned had grown accustomed to the rat's tales with time, so he just smiled shortly and muttered "I'm sure it was a sight to see," still focused on the screen. It was somewhat difficult to focus - the effects of the hangover hadn't quite worn off yet, and he was wearing yesterday's clothes that still smelled suspiciously of Diego, booze, and arousal. Still - he shook his head to clear it and stared at the screen. Johnson was saying someone to one of his assistants, while another assistant adjusted the microphone.

"Get ready to hear another bucket of shit" Diego muttered.

And, just as before, the badger raised his arms and began with the same entry he'd used in Houston: "Friends, countrymen, brothers and sisters under God! I thank you for joining me here on this fine summer's day." His speech was remarkably similar to the previous one, although some of the words were more tailored towards San Fernando's dangerously-liberal population. "This city is rotten with sin!" the senator bellowed, point a finger incriminatingly at the crowd. "I can smell the stench from miles away, and more importantly, so can God. How can such an abomination survive, wracked with sin and turned away from the lord? Even members of our own government have fallen to this atrocity! I hear that later this week, a renegade congressman from your very state is to speak here at one of your universities, spewing more poisonous blasphemy."

A congressman? Ned had not heard that, but perhaps more government people were coming now that the Prophet case was taking nationwide attention.

Some of the protesters were really screaming, but Johnson just expounded louder. "Look at yourselves! Look what you have become! Are you really willing to allow an abomination such as this 'Amendment 28' to pass through without a fight? For Ezekiel said: 'you shall not go a whoring,' and the lord himself hath commanded it: 'he who lies with another man shall be stoned.'"

"We'll stone you!" one of the protesters, a tall fox, screamed. The camera was too far away for a definite identification, but he was pretty sure it was JJ Maxwell, the activist lawyer. Behind Maxwell more protesters were surging up, pressing against the street cops who were supposed to be keeping the peace. Some of them were throwing pieces of food, drink cups, and other small objects, all the while hurling angry retorts to Johnson's rabble.

The badger had paused to stare disdainfully down at the crowd. "Look at this rabble" he seemed to be speaking mostly to his meagre gathering of supporters. "See how they are wallowing in sin. Eternal damnation awaits every single one. Look again at them! Can you see them burning in the fires forever?"

Johnson was getting more and more animated, his voice rising as the cameras of the media flashed incessantly. "I can see them now, knowing at last the extent and price of their evil, but too late!"

From across the plaza another voice rose above the commotion. "People of San Fernando!" It was definitely JJ Maxwell; Ned recognised the fox's voice, and he was more visible now that he'd climbed atop the roof of a taxi, turning back to speak to the rest of the protesters. In the bar, the scene was eerily similar to the first time Ned and Scarlett had watched Senator Johnson speak, not a single person moving a whisker.

"Are we, the people of the most welcoming and open-minded city in America, going to let this bigot insult our people? Will we stand by while he spews his hatred unobstructed? I say NO!" The fox was just as animated as Johnson now, holding a fist in the air and pleading with the audience. Johnson was trying to speak, but the attention of the crowd had turned to Maxwell, and the badger went ignored. "I say we drive this hypocrite out of our city. I say we send a message to all who hold prejudice in their hearts: you will never win."

The crowd roared.

Some of Johnson's supporters offered a feeble booing, but they, and the Senator himself, were drowned up under the chanting roar "Drive him out! Drive him out! Drive him out!" The few cops seemed small and insignificant among the swarming mob, which surged forward like a high tide. The cops were knocked aside as the horde swept across the plaza, waving their signs and whatever small projectiles they managed to find.

Johnson fell silent, faltering for the first time. Further back on the stage, his wife gasped and put a paw to her muzzle, eyes widening in fear. As for the TMF crowd, most of them took one look at the furious mass and fled.

Ned licked his lips. How could Johnson not have anticipated this, speaking in such fashion in a place like San Fernando? Even the news broadcasters were silent, everyone holding their breath. In a situation like this, the cops present would have been sure to call for assistance, but would they get there in time before the angry crowd.....

Maxwell had reached the space below the podium, and tauntingly the vulpine stared up at his enemy. The badger, his family, and their staff were crowded together on the stand, while the Senator's two security guards, a pair of ferrets, stood uneasily, paws too close to their holsters for comfort.

"You have been warned, Senator" Maxwell growled. "Leave our city. And do not return."

"Unless you want to return in PIECES" a woman screamed, and at that the crowd resumed their chanting.

"Drive him out!"

Johnson opened his muzzle, paused, thought better of it. The guards stood between the badgers and the crowd as Johnson and his family edged off the stand and out of the camera's focus, while behind him, the victorious horde cheered.